


hot butter on breakfast toast

by brandywine421



Series: romcoms [4]
Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, POV Alternating, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2020-10-13 02:30:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20574971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brandywine421/pseuds/brandywine421
Summary: Matt's a struggling law school dropout trying to get back on his feet after a misguided tragedy.  Frank's a divorced vet that needs an actual address to bring his kids on his weekends.  And they were roommates.This is a romcom.  Maybe not the one you think.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As always, pairings will evolve, but hopefully not the way you think.
> 
> *Oh, and the 'no powers' tag is more to mean that Matt's not Daredevil and Frank's not the Punisher - Stick and The Hand and Elektra all exist, just not the vigilante parts.
> 
> **The variation in tone and dialogue is intentional, I was playing with a few things.

It took ten sentences to fall for Elektra. Three months to call it love and two years of madness later to call it crazy but it only took three minutes to lose her.

His father gurgled between his hands, Elektra choked, broken and sorry, so so sorry, but dead dead dead.

He couldn't bring himself to hate her for her lies when she was too dead for it to matter.

_"Matthew."_

He raised his head at his name and slowly ticked through the stimuli to get the location. When the cool hand made contact with the back of his neck, he knew it wasn't to hurt him. _Home_. He was **home**.

_"That's right, buddy, you're home. Couple of years behind schedule but you'll have plenty of time to catch up."_

* * *

Foggy took over his bank account, never mentioning the number of commas or bringing up off-shore accounts or stock options.

Karen found him a split level and filled the top floor with things he didn't need and finally a gym that made all the extravagance worth it with his dad's old equipment scavenged from one of her connections.

Father Lantom accompanied him to six different shrinks before Matt agreed to meet with the retired rabbi from Chelsea that said he was a disappointment for letting a woman fuck up his life when being an orphaned blind kid hadn't done the trick.

Nobody mentioned Elektra's name even if he could constantly feel the outline of the letters on her gravestone against his fingers.

It was the one thing he had to credit Sister Maggie for - he would never call the strange woman his mother, she should be glad he didn't call her Sister Margaret - she didn't dismiss his time away as a misguided impulse. She made him talk about his travels, Italy and Prague and Shanghai, the coffee in Colombia and the carvings in Siberia. Sister Maggie wasn't his mother but she was a friend.

Six months after he washed up half dead and wholly mad, a lot of promises were made and a lot of hugs were lost between nightmares but Matt had enough pieces of his life back to start fresh.

Foggy was paying him for paralegal work and backing Karen in her office position while she finished her degree, not that it was about the money.

Matt needed to keep busy and distracted or else he'd find himself wandering Manhattan in his socks following a perfume.

A job, regular psych and church visits, absolutely no parkour, and an endless supply of inherited wine - he had plenty to keep him busy and out of the cemetery.

* * *

Maria didn't want the kids having their visitations in motel rooms anymore. Frank shouldn't care what Maria did or did not want since she divorced him three years into his second tour.

Motels were cleaner than most of basements or garages he lived out of during his transient construction jobs to keep him in boots and minutes on his phone.

Frank shouldn't care what Maria wanted but he would always and forever care about the kids and what they wanted.

Hotels weren't good enough, per Maria, so he resigned himself to suck it up and finally shake the sand out of his bones enough to find a fucking apartment.

Curtis tried to explain about credit scores and criminal records and security deposits but Frank was stuck on why it mattered if he had the cash up front. Curt finally conceded to make some calls if Frank took his feet off the coffee table.

He went through three real estate agents before Maria gave Sarah Lieberman his number and he relinquished all control over his future.

She was a force of nature that gave zero shits about his listless post-Marine life plateau. It was boggling that she allowed her husband to wear the same bathrobe every day of the week from his basement office but he brought in a steady paycheck so he wasn't allowed to ask about it.

Her kids were slightly older than his and much less behaved but the Liebermans were a functional family in a way he'd never had a chance to try out with Maria.

He wasn't the man she married when he came home the first time, she wasn't wrong about that, but she wasn't the woman he married either. The kids had to come first to him, they'd been her responsibility alone for too long.

No more temporary housing. Frank wished he could be bitter about it, but it might turn out to be the kick in the ass he'd been waiting for. At least he got some new friends with couches he could surf.

* * *

"Karen, it's great to finally meet you in person," Sarah embraced the woman she'd been harassing via email for the past three days. "Thanks so much for the opportunity to look at the property."

The blonde sized up Frank with doubtful eyes that almost made him want to salute. "Don't disappoint me. Matt's a very good friend and he's had a very rough time."

"Do we get to meet him?" Sarah asked after a beat.

Frank moved over to the door an instant before it opened and she heard a dull jangle from inside.

"Oh, he did come down, great," Karen murmured. Sarah took in the man, dark shades and sweatpants and a six o'clock shadow. It took a minute for her to map that he was blind and not hungover.

Frank and Matt seemed to be silently evaluating each other with flared nostrils and ticking jaws and she winced when Frank broke first.

"Bells?"

"PTSD."

"Hallucinations?"

"Auditory."

Karen and Sarah glanced at each other in horror as Matt and Frank fist-bumped in solidarity. "Guys, are you seriously - "

Matt said something in Italian and Frank pushed open the door for him.

"Well, I guess we're starting the tour now?" Sarah hesitated.

"Out of all the ways I thought today would go, this didn't make the list. Matt hates strangers," Karen confided.

"Frank won't even make his own phone calls, I thought I was going to have to put on a fake beard to get him a savings account," Sarah replied.

* * *

"Karen will try to explain all this to you before you sign anything and while I'm grateful for her help, I think it's a bigger step to tell you myself," Matt said after he'd walked Frank through the empty first floor apartment.

It was perfect, two bedrooms, one and a half baths and a full kitchen. Shared laundry room and back patio but completely in his price range and spacious enough to give the kids a real home.

"Sleepwalking's not a deal breaker," Frank said, figuring the guy was in AA or some kind of treatment to call it a 'step'. "I pulled a couple of tours, I wake up screaming a few times a week."

Matt waved his hand, folding the tapping stick and tucking it into his sweatpants. "More than that. My organization habits are necessary for the blindness but my OCD goes a little further. I have very good hearing, so I'll accidentally eavesdrop even if you're not screaming but my biggest warning is that my mental health is a mixed bag on a good day. What you'll need to know - and your kids - is that I might be dangerous if you say my name and I don't answer, or if I'm speaking another language."

Frank knew all about disassociation, he'd spent a couple of weeks in the psych ward dealing with it. "I'm on meds and go to group a few times a month," he said finally. "The kids know not to touch me if they catch me having a nightmare. I'm not the easiest sleeper anymore."

Matt nodded, thoughtful.

"Dangerous how?" Frank asked, needing to put the 'very good hearing' part aside for the moment. "No offense, just - "

"Been blind since I was nine, it's a fair question," Matt replied. "Short story - my late wife was a member of a religion that was known to groom child soldiers and we shared a common tutor."

Frank blinked at him. "What kind of religion was that?"

"I'm Catholic and she wasn't religious, but I have training that hopefully you'll never have to see," Matt backtracked in a rush.

_Huh_. "You haven't explained it to many people, have you?"

Matt flushed and fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. "I'm a blind guy that has been known to choke out hospital orderlies in my sleep - it's not easy to explain."

"I'll watch your back if you watch mine," Frank said. "I need to prove to my ex-wife, and myself, that I can get my life together. You seem to have a head start, so maybe I'll tag in on that."

Matt smiled with half his mouth and something fluttered in Frank's stomach. "_Huh_. Let's go get the ladies away from my wine rack and talk about boundaries."

* * *

Matt didn't expect his housemate, not tenant, to become an overnight friend - he was hoping for polite _neighbor_. He wanted to compartmentalize him as a harmless variable who knew to bring him home instead of calling the cops if he wandered into traffic.

But Frank was like all those clumsy frat-boys he'd banged in college, all bark and growl on the outside and cuddly soft behind the fur. Matt couldn't deny that he was witty and kind and _almost_ as clueless with social interaction as Matt himself.

He made the fatal mistake of showing Frank the home gym and the guy was unable to walk away from Matt pounding his fists into the heavy bag without holding it steady for him. Matt didn't need a _fucking_ spotter, but the guy was just trying to be helpful.

Then Frank found him in the crawlspace scratching gnawed fingernails into his thighs. And Matt bandaged Frank's knuckles three nights in a row from punching the wall instead of the mirror. And Frank walked him home from church after he had a meltdown in the confessional - again.

They were _never_ wary neighbors - hell, after the first week and a half, he didn't know how they'd ever been strangers.

* * *

Matt had assured him over and over that his apartment was ready for the kids but he was completely on his own when he unlocked the door and let Lisa and Frankie inside.

He didn't hold his breath the whole time, but he needed them to tell their mom good things. Maria was trusting him without seeing the place but he knew it was only to keep the peace. She liked her weekends without the kids and Frank didn't have anything on his agenda now that he had a drinking buddy a few yards away.

That wasn't true - he'd been going to more meetings and wandering around the church with the Sister who watched Matt like a feral cat when he went for confession. Matt definitely wasn't as well-adjusted as he pretended but he had routines and faith and Frank could use one of those, maybe.

The TV was bigger and he had cable and wi-fi because Matt's job and friend circle demanded it and the kids bounced around touching all the rushed trinkets and cheap toys before spotting the mystery door at the top of the stairs.

It was half-open, neither of them bothered closing it since they started bleeding into each other's lives but Frank had forgotten that an open door was an open invitation to a kid.

Matt took the invasion like a champ, probably because he heard everything in a three block radius whether he admitted it or not, and walked them through his part of the house like a grumpy tour guide.

Matt tried to turn down their demand for him to join them for dinner but Frank went warm all over when Lisa replied that they saw their Daddy 'all the time' so it was his duty to entertain them.

Motels or hotels be damned - they were going to see their Daddy all the time.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

_"Matt! Come quick!"_

Maria wanted to tell Frankie not to yell but she couldn't remember how to talk at the moment. She couldn't _think_ so _talking_ seemed out of the question.

_"It's okay, Mama, Matt will know what to do and he won't tell anybody, it's safe here."_

She glanced at her daughter and for a moment, she was about to ask why she was upset.

_"Okay, Frankie, it's okay, you're fine, Lisa, come here, honey."_

She didn't recognize the voice, or the blind man holding her children and checking them with steady hands and a steadier voice - oh, Frank's housemate - _oh no_ \- Frank would -

_"He's in class, won't be home for a couple of hours. Just keep doing what you're doing, you're fine."_

She believed him, the pain in her face dulled to a thrum and Lisa and Frankie were calm and attentive, bringing this stranger - **Matt** \- everything he asked for without backtalk. How did he do that?

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

She blinked and saw that the children were gone and he had a first aid kit balanced between them. The silk sheets were - oh - this wasn't Frank's part of the house. The kids brought her to _Matt's_. Oh. "Where are - "

"Downstairs, can I - " he motioned with a wet wipe and she nodded. He wasn't wearing his glasses, barefoot with a USMC hoodie and messy hair. His hand didn't miss the mark, pulling the cloth back stained with red.

"Oh." She didn't know she was bleeding.

"I'm not a doctor, obviously, but I don't think anything's broken. Did you hit your head?" He strummed his hands lightly through her hair while she tried to catch her breath, no, **think**, _breathing_ she could do - _thinking _was the struggle. "Lose consciousness?"

"No. I don't know how we got here," she said.

"They used their '_always have cab fare_' emergency plan to hear Frankie tell the story, but I think Lisa used your credit card," Matt answered. "They know they can come here if they're in trouble and their parents aren't available. You didn't call the cops or go to urgent care and I don't think you called Frank - "

"Don't - " Maria inhaled.

"I'm not the best person to help you with this. Frank's my friend and we both know how he's going to react if he hears about this from anybody else," Matt said, carefully dabbing the split above her eyebrow with the gauze.

She started to get up, gather the kids and get out but Sister Margaret from her church stepped into the room. "Matthew?"

"Sister Maggie, you remember Maria, yes? She fell down," Matt said, smoothly lying to the nun. "The kids knew I had a first aid kit."

"Are they - upset?" Maria asked, breaking out of her daze long enough to worry that the Sister would think she was an awful mother in addition to the rest. Matt moved aside for Maggie to take his place by the supplies. They knew each other, _oh_.

"They're playing with the cat," Sister Maggie replied softly. "They're concerned, but they know it's safe for you here. Not sure why they didn't call 9-1-1 for a fall, though."

"You have a cat?" Maria asked, slowly processing that Matt called the nun because he trusted her.

"Absolutely not, pets aren't allowed in the building," Matt answered.

Maggie pushed her hair aside and daintily placed a bandage above her eye. "You *are* the landlord, Matthew, and you and Frank split the vet bill on that fluffy monster."

"Lies," Matt replied and Maria let out a tiny hysterical laugh, but it was something.

"God. He's a banker - not a boxer or a soldier or a cop with daddy issues - he's a fucking _banker_. Probably never had the balls to lay hands on a man in his life but smacks me into a cabinet in front of my kids - "

"**Stay**," Maggie said sharply and Maria glanced up to see Matt frozen in place. "Don't make this any bigger. Get her something to change into."

"Frank will kill him, I shouldn't have come here - " Maria whispered. She felt peeled raw, on display for these strangers.

"Hush," Sister Maggie soothed her. "This has nothing to do with Frank or the children right now, this is about you. Once you catch your breath, change your clothes and have something warm to drink, you're the one that has to decide - "

"I told him if he steps foot on my property again I'd shoot him, and I will," Maria cut her off.

"Matthew's almost a lawyer, I'm sure he'll have some advice on restraining orders," Sister Maggie said.

Matt put down a folded stack of clothes on the bed. "I didn't want to make any calls until - "

"Do you want him to make some calls, Maria? You might have to speak to the police and - " Sister Maggie asked.

Maria nodded, suddenly sure. "Yes. I want to file charges. We have security cameras in the house, it should all be on tape and - I won't have to go back there right away, will I?"

"Of course not," Matt started but the Sister turned to him, silent. He nodded, understanding whatever she wasn't asking. "Maria, do you have a lawyer?"

"Matthew doesn't need to hear all your personal business but Mr. Nelson's the best and he won't charge you," Sister Maggie said.

"Oh. Thank you," she agreed.

Sister Maggie turned back to Matt. "Go start some coffee and snacks for the children. We'll come down when Maria's ready to hear about your calls. Do you have enough information?"

Matt hesitated. "It's Tuesday, do I need to call the - soccer coach?"

The banker couldn't remember her children's names but this stranger knew their weekly schedule. God. What a mistake - how could she - shit. "_Please_."

* * *

Maria knew that Frank was close with his roommate, shared a mutual flirtation, sure, but she didn't fully process what her ex had been trying to tell her the past few months until she saw her kids with Matt.

They were comfortable with him in a way they'd never been with any of the men she'd dated after the divorce.

Frankie hung off his waist by the belt loops like he was a mobile jungle gym and Matt caught him every time he threatened to drop off, accustomed to his barnacle weight. Lisa chattered to him breathlessly but he kept up with her, probing her to keep up the distraction whenever she paused or handed him the wrong coffee.

He didn't treat them like children, instead like tiny adults, with more censored language. They questioned his orders but obeyed anyway and she felt like he had some kind of secret to child taming that escaped her and every parent she knew.

Maybe she'd pulled back too far from Frank after the divorce, keeping their contact too limited to phone calls and shared parenting functions but she should have realized that he had come this far into his new life. Sure, culinary school was a big deal but the full time job at the butcher shop had been enough to satisfy her.

She hadn't been paying attention to Frank, wasting her time on the limp-dicked banker and an invisible promotion. Frank had been getting a career and finding a man that knew their kids' soccer schedule.

"Okay, down. Your dad's coming in, might need some warning after my text," Matt said, dropping Frankie gently to the floor and sending him with Lisa. "Do you - "

"What did you tell him?" Maria asked.

"That there was an accident and you and the kids were here," Matt replied.

She kept the bag of frozen vegetables against her cheek and followed Matt into the main room, leaving Maggie to clean up the snacks. Frank's space was much messier than upstairs but Matt maneuvered it like he knew where every Lego block was scattered.

Frank's eyes bored into her as he stood up from where he'd crouched to hug the kids. "Let me see," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

She'd never been afraid of Frank but she knew from the family therapy sessions that he was capable of damage. She lowered the bag of frozen corn and watched his expression turn to stone.

"Violence is not the answer and this isn't about us," Matt said. Frank slowly turned to look at him, hearing something she didn't in his voice.

"Is your ma here?" Frank asked.

"You're not supposed to say it out loud," Lisa whispered and Frank flinched as if just remembering the children were here.

He dropped his gaze to Lisa, then to Frankie with flared nostrils.

"Everything's okay now, I filed charges and the police are - " Maria started but Matt caught her attention.

"**Hey**, fucking _Jarhead_, you got a problem?" Matt snarled sharply, blocking Frank's sudden shift toward the hallway.

"Move," Frank growled, not stopping.

"Kids, Sleepwalker protocol," Matt said evenly, ducking a swing that took out three framed pictures on the wall.

"Come on, Mommy, that means we go in the kitchen for ten minutes," Frankie said solemnly, taking her hand and distracting her from whatever Matt did to get Frank pinned to the floor.

"It's important," Lisa nodded, taking her other hand and pulling her along.

Maria was glad Sister Maggie was still here and asked immediately, "Protocols?"

She sighed softly and turned to check the coffee's temperature before starting a new pot. "PTSD takes a lot of different forms. Matthew has unique ways of dealing with his - triggers."

"He's blind so if he's sleepwalking, or having a flashback; he might not recognize us," Lisa explained. "Daddy has bad dreams, too, so we follow the same instructions."

Maria hadn't considered the protocols would be for Matt before Frank.

"It's been better lately, hasn't it?" Maggie asked.

"You're not allowed to ask us that, Father Lantom is the only person that gets to ask," Frankie chirped.

Frank stepped into the room with Matt close behind, murmuring instructions. "Look at her, she's fine - don't go into crisis mode until you get the whole story."

She was relieved to see his soft, dark eyes shiny with tears instead of cold with rage and his arms sealed her into a cocoon of safety she'd never been able to replicate with anyone else. "What happened?"

"He hit me, it was the first time - you know me, Frank, I - it was the first and only time - so I told him to get out and - " Maria bit back the rest of her words so she didn't break into sobs again. He didn't deserve that, not when everything was already in motion.

"Lisa called a taxi because Mommy needed an adult and we knew Matt was closest," Frankie said. "Snowman protocol."

"Oh, I should have gotten that," Matt mumbled. Maggie glanced at him and he shrugged. "If I freeze up in public or when Frank's not home, they call a cab and take me to a neutral location."

"Right, we never had to do it before, but it worked when Mommy wouldn't answer us," Lisa said.

Frank reared back and cupped her chin, tilting her face so he could take in the bruise. "You see a doctor?"

"Sister Maggie and a paramedic both say I should follow up in a few days but I don't want to - " Maria said, steadying herself and squeezing his hands to finally draw his focus from the wound back to meet her gaze. "I didn't want to make it any bigger."

"Don't twist my words, you're already learning Matthew's bad habits," Sister Maggie scolded.

But Frank understood, kissing her forehead. "Better put that corn back on."

"Is it okay if I - we - " Maria started.

"We'll clean up the kids' room for you," Frank cut her off.

She started to protest that she would take the couch or anywhere else so the kids wouldn't have to give up their space but her daughter spoke up.

"We sleep in Matt's room," Lisa said helpfully.

Matt scrubbed a hand over his face. "They sleep where the cat sleeps," Frank amended, smiling at his 'roommate's' discomfort.

"But it's not _your_ cat, sure," Sister Maggie said fondly, hesitating a moment before laying her hand on Matt's arm. "Will you walk me home, Matthew?"

"Of course. Kids, walk with us so your parents can talk. We'll be back before dark," Matt said.

"Thanks," Frank said, watching them leave before turning his full attention back to her. "I'm glad you're here."

"Fuck it, me, too. I hate that he's nice."

"Fuck it, me, too," Frank chuckled.

* * *

"Sister Maggie's his mother?" Maria asked after she'd answered all his questions twice. She could snoop now that Frank knew entirely too much of her business. She'd forgotten that they were friends before they were married.

"He doesn't like to talk about it," Frank replied, matching her soft tone. "She will, if you ask for the right reasons. Kids got it out of her and he - well, he went twenty-five years believing he was an orphan so I'm not going to wade into all that."

"She left him?" Maria whispered.

"He'll never call her 'mom'. She was gone before he was old enough to talk, said she thinks he could roll over on his own but - she couldn't hold him, she was too scared, too sick. Baby blues," Frank murmured. "Says she doesn't remember exactly what happened but she dreams - sees herself holding a pillow and Matt's Dad - "

"Oh no," Maria covered her mouth but missed the gasp. "That's - "

"Matt's dad looked after him, the nuns got her head fixed and she's been raising kids at the orphanage for years."

Maria put the pieces together. "Was she there when - "

"That's why we don't talk about it," Matt said quietly, stepping in on silent feet and tucking his folded stick into a slot on the wall. "I can accept Sister Maggie as a friend, as religious counsel, or a confidential nursemaid - but I already have a family."

"You counting me today?" Frank asked, tilting his cheek for a practiced peck. Aw. She wanted to hate him.

"Depends, did you remember to get my suits from the dry cleaner?" Matt asked, sliding his hand across the counter until he found the cordless phone.

She had to smile at the lazy domesticity of the scene when Frank's face dropped with guilt.

"Sorry, Maria, your lawyer might be delayed since he's going to have to make a stop on his way," Matt said. "Foggy's family and he's also my boss so I have to have the suits for work."

"You got court?" Frank asked.

"Not like you're thinking, my Cantonese is rusty but there's a kid I need sit in with for a deposition. I should have never listed it on my CV," Matt sighed, waving the phone and leaving them to chase dry cleaners.

"You said he was in law school," Maria scolded Frank.

"He was almost finished before he dropped out, he's getting internship hours but he has the bar in what, three months?" Frank shrugged.

_"Two and a half - don't forget to find somewhere else to stay three weeks out because of studying!_" Matt called from the back.

Maria smiled and patted Frank's hand. "You think you can remodel the kitchen while you're staying over? I think I want new cabinets."

* * *

"Please tell me you haven't been here with the testosterone twins this whole time," Karen Page greeted her with a gentle hug. "It's nice to finally meet you, despite the circumstances."

"Sister Maggie was here," Maria answered and her lawyer, 'Foggy', made an offended sound.

"She's such a menace, I'm totally going to write the Vatican about her one of these days - how are you, dear?"

Karen rolled her eyes fondly. "Don't pay any attention to him, he's having custody drama with her about Matt's holiday plans."

Foggy glared at her and she wondered if they were siblings considering the playfulness between them. "Moving on from meddling nuns, we're here to go over the paperwork we filed on your behalf. We're so sorry we couldn't be here when Brett came by."

She didn't know Brett but had a flash of memory from the Detective's introduction. "He was very kind and they took pictures and talked to the kids."

"He also requested the security footage from your place for evidence," Karen said. "That guy better watch his back."

Foggy patted her arm, distracting her from the flare of anger in Karen's face. "I don't think we'll end up in court, his lawyer's already showing his belly. Your restraining order was shiny number five and we love showing a pattern of behavior to get jail time. Violence is not the answer."

Karen made a face and Maria bit back a laugh. "Are you sure you're not one of the testosterone twins?"

"Pacifism has its place, just not in my life," Karen muttered. "I'm signing you up for all the self-defense classes, twice at week at the rec center and you'll make time."

"Karen. You want to dial it back?" Foggy sighed.

"Nope, Sister Maggie can help her with a counselor or a prayer circle, but I can teach her to take care of herself," Karen said.

Maria liked her.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

**(before)**

"Pause," Matt interrupted today's lecture on why he absolutely had to take the bar to finish his abandoned law degree. Foggy paused, acting surprised that Matt would interrupt the regularly scheduled nag.

"What is it?"

Matt waved his hand toward the lobby. "I think Frank's bringing me lunch."

"Roommate Frank?" Karen chirped from Foggy's office.

"And the kids, I don't know why," Matt admitted. "But I hear them."

"You met the kids?" Foggy asked

Matt shrugged. "They're kind of hard to avoid."

"You guys are living out of each other's pockets lately - which is good, don't get me wrong, just - kids?" Karen asked.

He wasn't sure how to interpret her doubt.

"Matty's great with kids, my niece and nephews adore him," Foggy said after a beat. "But that doesn't explain why he's bringing you lunch when we can order something if you're hungry."

"I'm not hungry but he's got it in his head that I'm not eating enough. I eat fine," Matt frowned when Foggy and Karen's heartbeats ticked up with attention.

"He eats like a bird, Daddy says so, hi Matt! Hi, strangers!" Frankie caught him around the waist, climbing to his hip like it was his reserved spot.

"Foggy, Karen, this is Frankie who probably got away from his Dad somewhere in the hallway," Matt introduced. "What brings you guys by?"

"We're going to the park because Lisa kicked a ball inside the house and broke the lamp. Daddy said you don't eat if no one reminds you."

"That's a lie," Matt said.

"Okay, she broke a window, not a lamp," Frankie said.

"I'm so sorry, he got away from us," Frank apologized, walking in with Lisa obediently clutching his hand.

"Wow, you really do dress up for work, why don't you shave?" Lisa asked after a beat.

"Oh my God, please hang out as long as you want," Foggy said happily.

"It's not your job to feed me," Matt sighed, accepting the neatly packaged tray of food. He wouldn't turn down Frank's food because he was an amazing cook but it was the principle.

"I know, but I think I finally got the recipe right and needed your palate," Frank shrugged.

"Did you try it?" Matt asked Frankie, his arms looped around his neck.

"Ew, no, he put yogurt in it," Frankie replied.

Matt turned away from Foggy and Karen's curious approach. "Back off - this is an ongoing process."

"Daddy hates the Cooking Channel because Matt has it on all the time but only ever cooks eggs," Lisa offered. "He gets take-out for everything else."

Matt held up the plastic silverware and Frankie opened it for him so he didn't need both hands. "I find it soothing."

"What is that, it smells good," Karen loomed behind him.

"The tzatziki is the problem," Frank complained.

"You added something to the chicken, too, did you use the new cucumbers from - "

Frank sighed. "The Farmer's Market, yes, Snob, just taste it, I'm tired of Greek. We're having Italian for dinner."

He took two bites and made sure to go _'omnomnom'_ to earn the children's giggles before Karen got her hands on the plate and snatched it to sample with Foggy.

"You nailed it," Matt told Frank, appreciating the skip of his pulse from the praise. "Thanks for lunch, and the visit."

"Didn't mean to disrupt your workday," Frank said, brushing his hand through Frankie's hair and transferring him to his own hip.

Matt shrugged. "It was lecture 'o'clock anyway. They're on me about school as much as your ex is on you about getting a real job."

"I thought you were in construction," Karen picked up with her investigator ears. Matt could hear her chewing his lunch. Not fair.

"I need something more reliable so I'm looking around," Frank shrugged. "I got savings."

"So does Matt, but that doesn't make it okay to sit around the house all day watching TV and working out," Foggy said.

"We do other things, right, kids?" Matt asked, needing supporting evidence for his defense.

"Sure, Matt cleans *all the time* and Daddy reads recipe books and orders weird spices off the internet," Lisa answered.

Maybe not the best character witnesses.

* * *

Matt didn't turn around but the shattering of glass brought the room to a full stop. Frank took a quick head count and knew that they were all on his 'familiar enough to know the traps' list.

He liked most of Matt's friends, the ones that weren't nags like Nelson and Page that got hung up on interrogation over observation. Jones was a badass PI and Cage was an ex-client. Danny, the 'gym-mouse' Matt had brought home a few months back for that acrobatic karate shit, was a bit of a wild card with his money and lack of manners but they all had something in common. They all knew what rock bottom was like and were still shaking off the bloody fingers from the climb.

Bloody fingers.

"Nope, not having a two for one special, what is this, a full moon? Hey, Jarhead," Jones barked, catching his attention from Matt's dripping wrists as he stared down at his curled palms. She poked him - hard - in the sternum and danced back a step when he glared at her in annoyance.

"Don't do that."

She relaxed and put both hands on his shoulders. "Don't get that shell-shocky stare when you see red, keep your head in the game."

"Don't call me a Jarhead, either," Frank said, rubbing his chest.

_"Hey, any language you need, just tell me, huh?_" Danny's voice drifted behind him but Luke moved beside Jessica.

"She calls me 'Convict' when she thinks I'm going dark," Luke said.

"What do you call Matt?" he asked, taking the distraction to get his breath back.

"Anything but Matthew," Jessica mumbled. "It's one of the main reasons his Mom sets him off so hard."

_"It's just your blood, nobody else is hurt, it's just yours, we'll fix it right up, where's your liquor - Jess - come give him something to blast his tastebuds while I wrap up his hands."_

"Let's clean up the table while they handle that. You went a little wild-eyed and Jess gets twitchy enough when Matt goes offline," Luke said, directing him to the abandoned game of poker with the scattered snack winnings.

"Didn't mean to. Didn't think blood was a trigger," Frank admitted.

"Maybe it's not blood, maybe it's **whose** blood," Luke said with a wink. Huh.

He took a chance and glanced behind him. Danny had Matt's head turned into his neck and was speaking in muted Chinese. Jessica was drying and bandaging a gash in his palm from the broken wine glass.

"Nice to see that it's not one-sided," Luke said. Frank mentally subtracted a star from Luke's approval rating.

Danny pulled back and patted Matt's cheeks to swipe away the tears. "See? All clear. All good?"

"Sorry - "

"None of that, you rescued me from the bank last week so I already owe you," Danny said.

"The bank's a trigger for you?" Luke asked.

"Math gives me panic attacks, you can't judge me," Danny stuck his tongue out.

* * *

"Put your shoes on, we're going out for lunch," Matt called down the stairs.

Frank glanced at the brioche he'd just sliced but was too curious at the order to not obey. He didn't put on socks but the sneakers should be good enough without notice.

Matt had a thick manila envelope and his folded stick tucked under his arm. "We're doing shit today."

"Okay," Frank said, sensing the weight of whatever moment Matt was having. He accepted his duty as guide and followed Matt's terse instructions until they had made a short walk to a busy deli a few blocks away.

Nelson's Meats. Huh.

A rousing echo greeted them and Matt winced under the attention of the locals - the family - that rushed to greet him.

"Lay off, you act like you never see me - I'm here as a paying customer and everything - to eat, Ms. Anna," Matt said, swatting at the overly attentive woman that left the red lipstick marks on both cheeks.

"And who's this? Move, Teddy, you can drink your third coffee at the counter," Anna turned her full grin to Frank and he suddenly recognized Foggy's mother in the glow of her smile.

"Anna Nelson, the superior Nelson no matter what Foggy says," Matt told him. "This is my roommate, Frank. He's going to help me do shit today."

"Oh, by all means - do all the shit, Matty, I'll get the menu for you and the sampler platter for your big, strong friend," she winked at him.

"It's not a 'meet the family' situation, it's a - " Matt stumbled over his words as he slid into the big booth by the window in the corner, conveniently with great line of sight for the blind guy. He pushed the envelope to the middle of the table with a muted growl. "I need to be somewhere - _soft_ \- today."

Frank looked around the bustling restaurant, maybe advertised as a deli but serving coffee and hipster smoothies on one side and a mouth-watering list of Hell's Kitchen favorites on the other. He spotted a door leading to a separate side that served as a butcher shop from what he could see. Huh.

"Seems too busy to be soft," Frank admitted.

Matt tilted his head. "Familiar to me. I didn't know Foggy when I was a kid, didn't meet him 'til Columbia. But my Dad used to bring me here when it was just Edward and Teddy's butcher shop. Didn't come back until Foggy started bringing me for holidays, like, the orphanage didn't let me out much unattended - but they turned it into this restaurant and it's - "

"Home," Frank finished.

"Softer than home," Matt corrected. "Different every time. Theo's the one pushing the kale stuff, against my recommendations. He's Fog's brother, the butcher and manager right now."

"That's not on the sampler, is it?" Frank frowned.

"I want you to meet him," Matt blurted out. "You should get paid for making sandwiches - and not putting grass in my fruit drinks, only vodka."

Oh. "I didn't think of that."

"Yes you did, Lisa told me you were looking at sous chef ads on Craigslist," Matt sighed. "And if you get a job then I'll need something to do when you're not around to distract me."

"I distract you?" Frank asked.

"Yes, does he _distract_ you, dear? Please tell us all about it," Anna said, bringing them coffee, bottled water and bread before making herself at home and flipping open the envelope. "Ah, your college paperwork - am I allowed - "

"No, please, I'm paying for your food and moderated company, not your advice," Matt said, leaning his head on her shoulder when she looped an arm around his neck.

Matt was painfully prickly around Sister Maggie, but accepted this woman's comfort with ease.

"Foggy told us about your lunchboxes for our Matty - he's such a delicate eater, you must have some kind of skill in the kitchen," Anna said to Frank.

"It's a hobby, not a career," Frank said but fuck if he wasn't considering it. He _had_ been looking at the Craigslist page, just not seriously.

"I really don't think I can do school again, I don't - know - but I'm willing to try. Maybe you aren't meant to be a butcher and would be happier working security or pouring concrete - but you could try it."

Frank sighed. "I'll think about it while you let Ms. Anna get a pen for that paperwork."

"Part time," Matt said. "In case - "

Anna winked at Frank again. "First course should be up soon anyway, we'll need the energy for this."

* * *

"Curt, this is my roommate, Matt. He's the one that got me the gig at the deli."

He shook the soldier's hand with a polite nod. "Nice to put a voice to the name. You here to put in some time on the weights?"

The man shifted nervously and Matt wondered what he was missing. Was he missing something?

"He's my counselor, like, unofficially but he works for the VA," Frank said. "He wanted to meet you - "

"Frank - "

"He wanted to talk to you as my landlord," Frank edited.

That was even less reassuring.

Curt sighed heavily and crossed his arms. "What Frank's trying not to say - "

_"Mew."_

"Do you want a cat? Because I know you like cats and never - " Frank started in a rush but Matt was too distracted by the soft, fluffy kitten pawing at his shoelace.

"I can't have a cat," Matt said automatically. "I can't." He took a moment to catch his breath.

_"Mew."_

He picked up the kitten and stroked its furry back carefully, trying not to focus on the alarmed soldiers. "I can't have a cat. I won't stay anywhere long enough to take care of it. I don't have the attention span or the mental capacity to clean up after it."

"That's not **you** talking right now," Frank's voice was low enough to break through his mantra.

"I can't have a cat," Matt repeated. It was true. He couldn't. He was doing okay - he was finishing the credits he needed on campus and he wasn't flipping out unattended. He was doing fine - he couldn't -

_"Mew."_

Matt took another breath. "The cat can stay. But it's not mine. I can't have a cat."

"Sorry, this was a mistake - " Curt started.

Matt turned away when they tried to take back the kitten. "I said it can stay."

* * *

"So, off the record, is Matt - "

"Oh man, don't ask me that," Theo said, eyes going wide with panic. "Please direct all questions about Matt's preferences to my brother - seriously - people have been scalped for less and nobody wants that."

Frank shrugged. "It was just a question."

"You know what happened to his last girl, right? Foggy was messed up when Matt was missing so if you really think Matty has a crush - don't tell Fogs unless you want him all up in her business. "

Theo had missed some, well, *most* of Frank's point but he'd given him the information he needed.

"I'll give her the warning," Frank replied.

Theo's eyes went even wider. "Oh man, we need to watch him better - cockblock initiated, all right? Matt's finally getting his shit together, he has no permission to find a girlfriend. We're counting on you, man."

"I promise to get back to you," Frank said, giving him a thumbs up. He got a text twenty minutes later from Matt that simply read 'Told you so.'

Frank didn't mind if their 'dates' were limited to housebound activities, he had time to win over the Nelson family.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

"Now what? What happens tomorrow?" Maria asked, dulled from today's overload.

"Do you want to cover it up and go to work, or call in sick and take some time for yourself without the kids?" Karen asked, still holding her hands after her marathon signature session.

She was done thinking about the banker and locksmiths and 'patterns of behavior'. "Where are the kids? Frank must be tired of them by now."

Karen gave her a look. "You really don't talk to him much, do you? He loves having them around. The only reason he's not at every one of their soccer games is because his class schedule came back before their match schedule."

"I didn't mean it like that. They're always hyped up when they get home after their weekends and today's been bumpy for everyone," Maria said.

"Well, I know something you don't - Matt's a kid-whisperer. Foggy and I have known him since college but we had no idea until he started living with your ex," Karen said. "We're going to lose him to juvenile law if Foggy doesn't watch his back."

"Do you see Frank a lot? I mean, he seems so different than the last time I spent time with him," she admitted. She needed to think about something else and she was in Frank's space. 

"How was he before?" Karen asked softly.

"Bored, ambivalent. Angry as hell," Maria sighed. "He cried a lot, couldn't really deal with the babies. It was a while ago, I guess. They haven't been babies for a while."

Karen sat down on the bed with her again. "He bonded with Matt almost instantly; craziest thing I ever saw. He seems to be a mother hen, needs someone to take care of and Matt doesn't put up with shit like that. Frank wanted him to get his shit together so Matt expected Frank to do the same. Don't get the wrong idea, they're both painfully behind the maturity curve."

There was a soft knock on the door and Frank leaned in. "Everything okay? Matt says you're talking out of turn."

Karen rolled her eyes and Maria giggled despite the day's drama. "Tell him to stop being a snoop."

"Kids are doing homework, Foggy's going to take them to school when he comes to get Matt in the morning," Frank said.

"I don't need a sitter, Frank," Maria frowned. She definitely didn't need him hovering over her.

"Frankie asked me not to leave you alone," he whispered, glancing behind him. "I promised."

Oh. "Okay, I'll talk to him."

"Take your time," Frank said. "Matt - and me, too - we want you to know that you're welcome to stay as long as you need. We want you to stay - especially if it'll make the kids feel better." He met her eyes, making sure she was listening the way she used to try and do to him - with mixed results. "You'll always be family, Maria, even if it's not the same way. All right?"

"Thanks. How did the kids get their homework?" Maria asked, not wanting to get into his offer. 

"Oh. I had to let the school know that someone different would be dropping them off tomorrow so I asked and they emailed it to me," he hesitated. "Was that - "

She exhaled. "No, Frank, it's fine. I just - maybe I didn't notice how good you'd gotten with the 'Dad' stuff."

Frank flushed. "I don't know about 'good', but we do all right. They have clothes and I'll make their lunches when I make Matt's. We, kind of, keep routines but we'll make it all work. Don't hide too long." He closed the door and left them to brood.

"He's not lying about the routines, they have a whole schedule," Karen confirmed. "Matt goes to church and volunteers, works at the law office and sees a shrink - and Frank's got his meetings, and they have friends over a lot - not even for sanity check reasons."

She was slightly insulted for the both of them but Karen seemed to know she'd overstepped.

"Sorry - we micromanaged Matt a lot, me and Fogs are still getting used to him being independent - they grow up so fast," Karen smiled.

She had a sudden need to see her kids, her sweet brave little babies. Maybe she should keep them out of school tomorrow because of trauma or just to keep them close.

Karen hugged her goodbye and promised she'd have good news soon, and shook her finger at Frank until he reluctantly agreed silently with raised hands. 

"I need to see - "

"Oh, come on," Frank said, putting an arm around her and leading her upstairs to Matt's gym. "It's quiet time from 530 to 6."

The kids were huddled over their homework with the cat supervising with a swishing tail between them. Matt seemed to be meditating in the corner on a small padded mat. The steady ticking of a metronome filled the space behind Lisa and Frankie's whispers.

Frank clucked his tongue and the kids perked up. He signalled something about downstairs and both of them gave matching thumbs up. The cat moved to sit on Lisa's worksheet.

Okay. Okay. They were okay, she was okay - this was okay. Fuck, this was more than okay.

* * *

"Why don't you claim the cat?" Maria asked, watching Matt methodically clean up his space while she petted the unnamed cat on his couch.

He didn't flinch but his voice was low when he finally paused in his dusting. "That's a subject loaded with traps."

Huh.

"Gaslighting, that's what the shrink calls it. It's hard to - explain," Matt said after a beat, lowering the duster and freezing in place.

Traps, shit. "You don't have to - "

"I can't have a cat. I won't stay anywhere long enough to take care of it. I don't have the attention span to care for it. I'll hurt it because I'm only meant for war," Matt recited slowly. "My wife - late wife - had the same - teacher - that I did as a kid, she just completed the full regiment and I dropped out early."

What could she say to that? What kind of - 

Matt slowly sat down beside her and the cat scurried over to claim his lap over Maria's. He stroked her carefully and she rumbled against his touch. "She adopted a stray once, when she was maybe, twelve or thirteen in Tokyo, I think. They made her kill it to prove - whatever, just - I didn't make the connection when she used to quote the whole spiel. I didn't - know that I was just a mission to her, to get me into the war I never - "

She took a chance and squeezed his shoulder. He deflated like she'd unplugged his air.

"Sorry. I can't have a cat. Yet," Matt said. "I am, like most things around here, a work in progress. My shrink says it's good that the cat stays here, even if it can't be mine yet." 

"Thanks for telling me," Maria said.

"It doesn't make you worry about me being around the kids?" 

She considered it. "Not any more than I worry about letting Frank around them. I mean, you have super-hearing so that already puts you way ahead of the curve."

Matt huffed, doubtful. "Karen told you I was good with kids, didn't she?"

"I saw that for myself," she smiled. "Karen's worried they're going to lose you to juvenile law."

"Before my life went sideways, Foggy and I always talked about starting a firm together. I'm excited about taking the bar, finally, checking that box - but I don't know if I can think past it yet. Don't tell them, but I don't know what I'm going to do when I'm done with school."

"Nothing wrong with that, is there?"

He shrugged, scritching between the cat's ears. "I like my life right now. My long term goal is keeping it that way," he smiled.

* * *

Maria stayed at Frank's for two weeks - long enough for her bruise to disappear and her Grown Ass Woman brain to kick back on. She made excuses at work to the people that didn't matter and told her friends and supervisors the truth.

Frank and Matt made dinner every night, for themselves, the kids, the friends on game nights - she had a standing invitation now, kids or no kids - and had a fucking domestic little home like she thought only existed on TV. Frank tolerated Matt's 'in-laws' - the lawyers and Catholics - and Matt put up with Frank's insomnia and rowdy Marine guests. They made it work and she finally felt like she understood her husband - it just took a divorce for it to all to come out.

She didn't take self-defense with Karen, but she signed up for yoga and joined her book club, enjoying the gossip groups outside of the PTA or staff gatherings. She liked Foggy's soon-to-be fiancee and had automatic babysitters since Frank and Matt stayed in more than out.

The banker was out of the picture for good, fired and logistically exiled out of state on a parole violation or something Karen was proud of figuring out without 'the boys'.

Maria spent a lot of time with Karen, but it wasn't until she caught herself turning down dates that might overlap with her weekends of girl-time that she considered it might be more than - it might have gotten complicated.

So she took the kids to Frank's, abandoned them downstairs and went in search of the man she knew had all the answers because he heard all the conversations.

He was in the gym with the cat, doing pull ups in time with the metronome but he greeted her with a grunt so she felt safe getting to the point.

"I need to ask you something. About Karen."

"Take your shot," he replied without missing a rep. "No promises, though."

"Does she like me, like, in more than a friendly way?" Maria whispered in case Matt's weird hearing was somehow rubbing off on Frank downstairs where he was making dinner and humming off-key.

"I can't divulge that information. But she's never been this bad at yoga, like, the trainers are worried about her because she's so distracted."

Maria huffed in frustration until his words fit together. "Bad at yoga?"

"No focus whatsoever. I told you nothing," Matt said in a low growl. "She enforces the 'snitches get stitches' rule to a fault and I'd like to stay on her good side."

"Of course, I'm so sorry I asked," she grinned, rocking back on her heels, relieved she wasn't losing her mind.

"Blue top, pink capris - I told you nothing," he repeated, dropping to his feet with a frown as he flicked off the tic-tic-ticking. "I'm getting the wine and going downstairs, you're a menace."

"Not yet, but maybe," she agreed.


End file.
